Hold Me?
Every morning
I awake
With the
Overbearing
Sense of
Dread
That everyone
Expects
Me
To carry
Silently.
This
Sense
Much like the
Lingering taste
Of
Oven
Roasted garlic
Quickly ferments
All my plans for
The day.
The only things
That can
Wash away
These
Rotten
Thoughts
Are
The newly
Furnished
Faucets
That rest upon
My face.
My pillow is the
Lone
Repeat
Casualty
But once
It
Is
Over
I’m finally free.
But then
Morning
Comes
And with it
A new
Sense of
Helplessness
And a
Renewed
Need
For someone
To
Hold
Me.
Please?